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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589880">Made It In Time</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksolomon73/pseuds/jacksolomon73'>jacksolomon73</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You Or Your Memory [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Temporary Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Cuddles, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mollymauk Tealeaf Has Feelings, Mollymauk Tealeaf Lives, Mollymauk Tealeaf Needs a Hug, Nightmares, POV Caleb Widogast, POV Mollymauk Tealeaf, Recovery, Resurrection, Reunions, Second Chances, Trauma, recovering molly, semi verbal molly, stop bringing molly back to life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:21:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksolomon73/pseuds/jacksolomon73</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's no small thing, being resurrected twice in one short life. Molly is alive, and in love, and slowly piecing himself back together. There are things that he can make sure he's here for, this time around.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You Or Your Memory [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016833</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Made It In Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This takes place some time after the events of You or Your Memory.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's the height of summer, and Caleb is sitting under a tree in a vast meadow not far from camp. Insects buzz around in the dry yellow brush, and the heat shimmers on the horizon. He can see Yasha some way off, the grass barely coming up to her knees, walking slowly and occasionally bending down to pick a flower. Beau is with her, and Caleb can picture her feigning interest in botany just for an excuse to be close to Yasha. He smiles and goes back to his book, focusing on a particularly tricky set of arcane symbols that he wants to commit to memory before he begins the process of copying them out.</p><p>The symbols disappear from view as Molly comes and lays across his book, staring up at him from his lap.</p><p>'You are very rude, Mr. Mollymauk,' says Caleb. 'I am very busy.'</p><p>Without breaking eye contact, Molly sticks out his tongue and runs it along his top lip, a sly quirk at the corner of his mouth. Caleb huffs out a laugh and pushes Molly off him. Molly kneels up and holds out a hand; Caleb snaps his book shut and takes it, and is pulled down on top of him into the grass.</p><p>Bracing himself on his elbows, Caleb regards him past a section of his ginger hair that has sneaked out of his ponytail. Molly's head is framed by yellow grasses and little sprays of red and blue flowers. His eyes are brighter; his skin has a little more colour; and the cracks in his horns glimmer in the sun where he has carefully pressed silver pigment into each one, a new kind of adornment. Caleb runs his hand across one of them, and Molly closes his eyes like a cat being petted. Caleb smiles, and leans down to kiss him.</p><p>It's no small thing, being resurrected twice in one short life.</p><p>Molly is quieter, changed. More verbal than when he initially arrived back; but it's nothing like the whirlwind of brashness and colour that he was before. In the time Molly was away, Caleb has gained a little confidence. They balance each other a little better. Caleb feels grateful that he can finally get a read on Molly, now that he isn't as bold and intimidating. He feels guilty for thinking this. It doesn't stop it from being true.</p><p>Still, there are pieces of Molly that aren't quite tied to this world. Sometimes they will be sitting together of an evening, Caleb reading and Molly stitching away at his coat or working on his cards, and Caleb will look up to find him staring off somewhere in the middle distance. Caleb knows it's somewhere he can't follow; some veil that he will never pass through. Molly's eyes are unfocused, dull.</p><p>'Come back to me, my love,' Caleb says quietly.</p><p>Molly eventually looks in his direction, and then his eyes drop to the ground, blinking, searching, refocusing. He looks up again and Caleb nods gently at him. Molly nods back briefly. They go back to their activities.</p><p>On the first of many similar nights, Molly shoots up beside Caleb in bed, chest heaving. He grabs his horns and <i>pulls</i> his head down towards his knees, the muscles of his back tensed and straining in one long arc. He gasps for breath in a horrible rattle, like something is snapping through his ribs and collapsing his lungs. This is the noise that Caleb himself has had nightmares about ever since he first heard it all those long months ago. Heart pounding and tears pricking his eyes in some kind of panic response, he brings a hand up to Molly's back and tries not to flinch away at the thick scar there, the one that corresponds to the longer one on his chest. He rubs at the tension there, trying to think of soft words to say, soothing things that his mother might have said to him as a scared child. Molly breathes as though he is drowning, as though the glaive is still inside him. It takes a long time to bring him back from that moment, and Caleb is reminded again of the strange circumstances they are in, the unnaturalness of it all. Eventually, Molly drops heavily back down onto the pillows. He blinks, then turns his head to Caleb. They breathe together in the dark. Molly shifts forward, tucking himself into Caleb's shoulder and chest, and they sleep.</p><p>Later, out on the road, everyone is talking and laughing as they load up the cart for the last leg of a long journey into Nicodranas. As they move off together, Jester elbows Molly, joking with him about the time he pushed Fjord's head into a well. Molly holds his hands up, denying it loudly whilst simultaneously blaming it on 'post merrow-killing adrenaline'. He jumps up beside Jester and jostles for space in the cart.</p><p>Yasha passes by Caleb once they're out of earshot.</p><p>'He's lying,' she says quietly. 'He doesn't remember. I told him about everything in the swamp, recently.'</p><p>Caleb looks towards Molly as he trades jokes and insults with their friends. Then he takes a breath, and focuses on the journey ahead.</p><p>Instead of finding their destination, they find Trent. After so much time hiding, Caleb has almost forgotten that there are still ways for his old life to hunt him down. There is a desperate struggle at the top of a tower during an elaborate party; no one hears Trent hissing at Caleb as he holds him up against the balcony in the rain, Caleb writhing in a panic against magical restraints that bind his hands and rob him of his voice. The Nein get there, but it's too late; all Trent has to do is reach out his free hand as they get to the top of the stairs, and everything fragments and disappears.</p><p>Mollymauk opens his eyes.</p><p>He's lying on his back in pitch darkness that bears down on him like a heavy weight. It's cold, and there isn't enough air. He feels an instant wave of panic and claustrophobia, but more than anything he feels rage building in his chest like an angry, focused flame. If whatever he thinks is happening is happening again - well, it better not be. He shuts his eyes, willing to let himself die again if it will let him burst through the Moonweaver's door and demand some answers. Nothing happens. He opens his eyes again. He takes a few deep breaths and feels tension and energy travelling through his body down to the tips of his fingers and toes. He wonders if this is how Caleb feels when -</p><p>
  <i>Caleb.</i>
</p><p>Molly jerks into a sitting position and instantly smacks his head into a low ceiling. He groans and cups his forehead, squinting into the darkness, eyes adjusting. He appears to be in a tiny dark room made of natural rock, lying on a shelf of stone at the back. He slithers off his perch, pulls his coat around him, checks for his sword.</p><p>Once he's taken care of the guard at the door, he begins to run. He runs, steps, and spins, slicing through the front of another guard's leather armour and leaving him clutching his chest in his wake. He jumps up onto a low stone wall without breaking stride, switching his grip on the scimitar and punching it downwards on someone grabbing for his heels. He needs to get his friends, grab his wizard, get out of here.</p><p>They end up coalescing at a central point in the dungeon and find a way to crawl out into the light, realising that Trent has let them escape as some kind of horrible power play that Molly can't begin to fathom. He is the last one to arrive, panting and dazed, and as his friends help him out he realises how much more powerful they have become in his absence - partly <i>because</i> of his absence. He sees Caleb standing some way off, frozen, head tilted downwards. He wishes his words weren't so slow to come to him. He feels the weight of all the information he is missing. He pushes himself to his feet as his friends walk off in front of him, Beau slinging her arm around Caleb as they go.</p><p>Later, at another inn, once they have tended to their wounds and headed to bed, Molly lays down his scimitar on the folds of his coat and tries to pray. He sighs, runs his hands over his face, presses one over his heart, then drops them to his knees. He's tired. All these days and nights of his new life, and he still feels a heaviness in his bones, like something is calling him back to the earth. He feels harassed, like he will never be allowed to rest. And although he feels a great deal of affection towards a certain ginger wizard - more than affection, if he's being honest - he still feels frustrated and lost, like someone has planted him on a strange planet without so much as a map. All he has are fragments of a previous life, the memories mangled up and out of order. When they do come to him, he is someone else, gesturing with dramatic flourishes in a long red coat. He wishes he could have saved that person. They were happier, less afraid.</p><p>He can't focus on his ritual; he opens his eyes and looks directly up at the moon in the gloomy night sky.</p><p>'I know there's no point in asking,' he murmurs. 'But I still want to know.'</p><p>He drops his head right down to the floorboards, and stays there for a long time. The conversation he has is between him and the Moonweaver. The shadows darken further in the room, and Molly wants to stay here forever; finally still and quiet, even when his knees begin to seize up and his head aches. Eventually he plants a hand on the low table and hauls himself up. He stands by the window, very still, the bluish moonlight on his face.</p><p>Vaguely he hears doors opening and closing in the building, voices from down the hall. He doesn't move, even when the door to the room opens. He knows Caleb just by his presence, just from the way he breathes and moves. Caleb steps into the room and Molly feels his arms wrap around him from behind, his head coming to nestle in the crook of his shoulder. Caleb's breathing is shallow and shaky. Molly puts a hand up to stroke his hair.</p><p>'Caleb?' He whispers. He turns around, holding Caleb's forearms as his hands come up to cover his face, shoulders heaving.</p><p>That night Caleb tells him his whole terrible story, and Molly holds him tightly through the whole thing, even after his arms get pins and needles. When Caleb is done, shaking with grief and fear, Molly kisses him on the forehead, glancing up at the moon in the dark sky.</p><p>They have so much time.</p>
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